


Line of Defense

by Those_Who_Walk_Alone



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - World of Warcraft Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, I'm conscripted so I feel remotely qualified to write this, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Soldiers may or may not have the hanky panky, What is Canon amirite, World of Warcraft: Legion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-23 08:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Those_Who_Walk_Alone/pseuds/Those_Who_Walk_Alone
Summary: Azeroth and its people are under attack: zombie outbreaks, extraterrestrial attacks, and innocents caught in between.  But when Jaina fails to rescue a fellow XCOM operative while being activated, everything takes a turn for the worst.





	1. Jaina

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing, and I don't know what I've created. But I love this concept. And I'm sticking with it :)

When Jaina Proudmoore was activated, it was not how she envisioned it. The day she signed on as an embedded operative she thought she'd be activated in the middle of the night, roused from sleep by her alarms. Or while she was in Kul Tiras' research labs, developing progress on a number of her side projects. Maybe even while she was visiting her parents.

But when she did get activated, she was done with being a wingman.

Her friend and her date had just stolen away from the party, undoubtedly to engage in the natural course of debauchery that normally arose from such events. Jaina was leaning at the side of the room, feeling the uncomfortably loud music ripple through her as she finished the last of her beer. Not that party music was something she disliked; Jaina just preferred it at a normal, sane volume.

It wasn’t the first time she’d found herself in this situation. Which was the annoying part; she needed to tell Melinda to give her a break. There were only so many parties that she could tolerate, let alone being a wingman for. It was only out of courtesy that she’d agreed, ignoring the multitude of other things that she could be doing instead.

She sighed, crushing the can in her hand and throwing her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. She’d inevitably need to send Melinda back home after this; couldn’t afford to get too drunk. And since she didn’t know how long this entire ordeal would take, she settled in for a long night of waiting.

“I take it you’re not one for clubbing?”

Her eyes opened, settling on the tall blonde elf in front of her, silver irises gazing back at her own.

“I . . .”

The woman's appearance was striking, to say the least. Jaina wasn’t expecting company to find her; she’d grown accustomed to solitude over her years, self-imposed or not. Being approached was . . . new.

But not unpleasant. “You could say that.” She shot the newcomer a small smile. “I’m here for a friend.”

She never knew many people in Theramore to show up at a bar in a plain shirt and pants, but the outfit looked good on her new companion. Best guess was that she was passing through for whatever reason.

“Most of you non-party people are.” The woman moved to her left, leaning against the same wall. “Not that I haven’t found exceptions before.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jaina replied.

A smirk crossed her lips. “Some people are just newer. Shyer. Quieter. Not too sure how to get into the flow on the floor. Or into people they fancy. But some are really here because they have a friend to take care of.” Silver eyes scanned Jaina up and down. “I wonder which are you?”

Jaina could feel a new, peculiar sensation creep beneath her skin. It wasn’t uncomfortable, to have her breath hitch and pulse rise, though she wasn’t quite sure what it was. But she played along. “I do actually have a friend here. Though since she’s nowhere to be found, I take it she’s gone off to have her own fun.”

The newcomer laughed. “Really? I’m rarely wrong about this.”

“Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“And is this your first time?”

Jaina scoffed. “At a party? Believe me, I wish it was.”

“Not that, silly.” The woman turned to face her fully, and Jaina could almost feel her gaze. “Is this the first time someone’s approached you?”

Jaina raised an eyebrow. “You’re frightfully perceptive.”

“Call it an occupational hazard.”

“I’d hate to find out what that might be.”

“Stick around long enough and you just might find out.”

A smile crossed Jaina's face. “I know I’m not very experienced with this, but I’d think I know flirting when I see it.”

“Flirting? Gods no,” the woman said, mouth agape in mock offense, “how could I do that to an innocent thing such as you?”

That got a laugh out of Jaina, and the woman relented, but there was no keeping a shit-eating grin off her face. “Sylvanas.”

“Jaina.” They shook hands; Sylvanas' was warm, soft, with a natural ease that belied every movement. Jaina hadn’t met anyone like that before. “I take it you do this often?”

“Only for the good looking ones.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please.”

“Come on. That was a better attempt than my first one.”

“You could make up for it by buying me a drink.”

An arched eyebrow, and a smile. “Okay, Jaina. I’ll bite.”

* * *

 

For the most part, Sylvanas was good company, which was more than Jaina could say about most of the other people she normally found at parties. Charismatic was not quite the word; Sylvanas was subtler but more snarky, with just enough good humor thrown in the mix. If they had more time Jaina wouldn’t have minded escalating things. But that was not what she was here for. Not yet.

Still, it didn’t mean Jaina wasn’t enjoying herself. It was a refreshing change, and truth be told, Jaina hadn’t had time for conversations, not with developing prototypes and polishing up her skills with them. She supposed Sylvanas wouldn’t have been interested in the nanochips and implants embedded in her own body.  That would take a little more conversation. And a few more drinks.

When her phone rang it was almost painful to pick it up. “Sorry,” Jaina said, knowing it must have been Melinda calling, “I think that’s my cue to go—"

Her eyes widened as she took a proper look at her notification, reading it twice to verify it.

 _PAS: RED. JAINA PROUDMOORE_  [BLUEWATER] recalled _to Zone Sierra. Extraction at 0100._

A quick glance at the top of her phone told her it was 2330. Jaina swiped the message away. “It’s been realky nice, Sylvanas, but—”

She narrowed her eyes. Sylvanas was staring at her phone, eyes riveted, her entire demeanour a shadow of the woman Jaina had been talking to for the past two hours. It didn’t make too much sense to Jaina, for Sylvanas to receive a perturbing message the same time she did.

 _Oh_.

“. . . Nightfall On Water?” The code phrase that left her mouth felt alien to her lips; she'd only rehearsed it, and the possible scenarios that she might use it. But here? Now? This was a little too much to take in.

Which was made worse when Sylvanas turned to her and gave the coded reply: “Yesterday’s Encoded Sigil.”

A silence passed between them, with only the beat of the music to fill in the gaps as they stared at each other, the weight of their exchange sinking in.

Sylvanas was the first to break the pause. “Zone Sierra?”

“Oh-one-hundred hours.” Jaina nodded. “We need to move.”

* * *

 

“You’d think I would have seen you around more.”

Jaina could only offer a huff in reply. It still felt surreal. And it did nothing to quell the anxiety in her heart.

To her credit, Sylvanas said nothing more, choosing to look out of her taxi window. The cab was cruising smoothly towards their pickup zone; Jaina thought they’d reach the field with ten minutes to spare.

Project Activation Status RED? The whole thing had been simple conjecture when she was roped into it. She didn’t think it’d actually happen in her lifetime, let alone happen at all. Who would have thought an extraterrestrial threat would actually manifest itself?

Then again, she reminded herself, that was the entire point of the project’s initial phase to begin with. Vigilance, however redundant, was requisite against a threat this severe.

The XCOM project was conceived between Alliance and Horde leadership during a time of détente, both realising that they would face threats that far eclipsed the danger that either could ever pose. For her part, Jaina represented Kul Tiras' involvement, and all the technological prowess two hundred and fifty years of naval and weapon heritage that the PMC had ironed out. Jaina was their academic and research forefront, but she'd never been shy of getting her hands dirty, which was why she agreed to join when Commander Wyrnn had approached her.

Part of the project involved complete secrecy of its members. No one knew who else was in on the project, save for the code phrase used to identify personnel when the time arose. Jaina therefore had no idea how Sylvanas was involved, and doubted Sylvanas knew Jaina's role in the project too.

Just another question to add to the list. She hoped she'd get some answers when she reached the Nest—

“Look out!”

Brakes screeched. Seatbelts went taut. From the front of the cab came a loud bang, then a squelch as the body fell back to the road. “Holy shit,” she heard the cab driver say. His chest rose and fell in great bouts, his knuckles white from clutching the wheel.

“Don’t just sit there!” Sylvanas yelled at him, swiftly exiting the cab. Jaina followed suit, her heart in her mouth. If there was any chance of saving whoever they just hit, they would need to act fast.

“How bad is it?” she asked as she ran up to where Sylvanas stood. Sylvanas said nothing. As Jaina turned to look, she saw why.

The body was mangled and disfigured. Black ooze dripped from wounds across its skin, whatever clothes that they once wore now shredded and frayed, the muscles equally so. Rot and stench emanated from its visage. By all accounts, they should have been dead.

Yet it pushed itself back up, moaning in an unholy, ghastly tone that seemed to echo across the buildings surrounding them.

That was when Jaina realised that it had been quiet. Too quiet for the city of Theramore, a city that she should have known well enough. There should have been more noise on a night like this. But despite the lights illuminating the windows around them, the shadows that shifted within were all too unnatural. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

If she wasn’t so unnerved, she might have also noticed it was far too cold for a night like this.

“Get back to the car,” Sylvanas began, even as she surveyed their surroundings. Her voice was deathly slow, every syllable striking Jaina like a hammer. “We need to get to extraction. Now.”

“What the hell is that?” Jaina muttered.

“Probably the very reason we just got activated.” Sylvanas turned back to her. “Let’s—”

A gauntleted hand swooped down and seized Sylvanas by the neck, and she let out a panicked cry. Jaina flinched backwards, sizing up the threat: a monstrous figure clad in armor, wisps of blue energy swirling and coalescing, along with a unnatural chill that bit at her skin. Mostly shrouded by shadow, but Jaina caught sight of enough skulls and engravings to know that she was now in grave danger.

Sylvanas gasped for air, hands grasping at the armoured fingers crushing her windpipe. “. . . go,” was all she could manage, even as she strained to break free. “. . . go!”

Skin still crawling, Jaina's gaze snapped from her to the armoured figure. “Put her down!”

The helmet cocked towards her direction, and she swore the chill that ran down her spine was more than just the cold. Even so, that didn’t stop her from mentally activating her arcane implants; the felt the energy sizzle at her finger tips, ready to lash out. She might have been a fool to take whoever this was head on, but she needed to try. She had to.

“You think to threaten me?” The voice was rasping but menacing, ancient and angry. “You can do nothing. This world . . . is mine.” Glowing blue eyes turned towards the blonde elf. “She is mine.”

That was all Jaina needed to hear. Her hand shot out, flinging an arcane bolt at her adversary. The impact was an explosion of violet wisps, but when the residual charges cleared she could see the shimmer of an energy shield beneath, and that her target was unharmed. “Impressive,” came the voice again, “but insufficient, _Jaina_.”

From behind his huge figure came a long, blackened sword, its blade glistening with blue runes, its tip pointed straight at Jaina. An icy blast lashed out, and only sheer reflex saved her from the brunt of the attack; her wards came up just in time to block out the damage, but not the momentum. Jaina felt herself lifted off her feet, wind rushing past her ears as she sailed through the air and crashed into the pavement with a sickening squelch, her head striking the floor. Hard.

_Did he just say my name?_

Her vision blurred, Jaina struggled to recover, grasping at the floor and trying to push herself up. Her back was awash with blood, no doubt from the abrasions, but the pain that rippled through her body could wait. For now she needed to get up, get whoever this guy was, and get to Sylvanas—

Sylvanas was nowhere to be seen.

And neither was the armoured figure.

_No no no no NO!_

Her head whipped left and right, scanning for any sign of them. But they had vanished.

What had not vanished were the shambling bodies all around her, their gaze fixated on her and the taxi she had arrived in. Their moans echoed across the city. She swore in the distance she could hear more human sounds. All screaming.

She desperately wanted to go searching for Sylvanas. She had to. She couldn’t just leave her at the hands of whatever – whoever – that was.

No, she told herself. She needed to escape. That was her best chance of tracking Sylvanas down and saving her.

As much as it hurt to do so.

Jaina pushed herself to her feet and surveyed the encroaching mob, pulling out her cell and dialing. Could she handle a crowd this big? She wasn’t sure. She’d only practiced in simulations back in the lab, sparring against holograms and AI, not anything remotely like this.  It scared her. More than she realised right there and then.

“This is Big Sky.”

“This is Bluewater,” Jaina spoke, rushing back to the taxi. “My extraction is compromised, cannot reach Zone Sierra. Need immediate evac from my location.”

“With respect ma’am, I’ve got another name on the list, due for extraction at Zone Sierra. I’ll need to—”

“She’s been captured,” Jaina replied, swirling arcane energy between her palms as the shamblers encroached ever closer. “I’m all that’s left.” She found the taxi driver cowering behind the wheel, frozen in place. “And I have a civilian with me.”

A pause.  "That's an affirmative. Any chance you can hold position for five minutes?”

A moan from her left. Jaina whipped around, sidestepping the grabbling shambler and blasting it with arcane energy, sending the body bowling through its compatriots behind it. “Not a chance.” She pulled open the taxi door and pulled the taxi driver out. “We’re moving,” she went on, more to the driver than to Big Sky. “Now.”

“Copy that,” came her pilot's reply. “Stay on the line.”

With her free hand Jaina launched another volley of arcane attacks, knocking the shamblers aside and clearing a path. Big Sky would need a place to descend, so she needed an open area. Zone Sierra would have been ideal but it was too far; the intersection ahead would have to do as a landing zone.

Which was also far too open. The shamblers could come from all sides. Five minutes might as well have been five years out there.

“Where – where are we going?” the driver stammered as she pulled him along. “I don’t wanna die!”

“If you keep your head down and follow my instructions, we might just make it.”

With a sweep of her hand Jaina blasted away another wave that had gotten too close. A temporary solution, she was sure; by the time she reached the intersection she was bound to be overrun.

Jaina reached behind her, tapping the nanochip embedded where her neck met her head and reconfigured her nanotech implants. There were still a few functions at her disposal, but the system as a whole was still a prototype. Not that there was going to be any better time for field testing.

“Get down!” She pressed the driver towards the floor with one hand and pushed back at the shambler that was grabbing at him with the other, her skin alight with arcana. It roared and groaned as the energy flayed its face into mush, giving the duo enough time to slip away.

With another somatic gesture Jaina felt her body tingle with power, then split, pulling at her from different sides as she triggered another arcane function. Two mirror images stepped outwards from where her body stood, shimmering clones of their owner and nearly indistinguishable. The shamblers around her moaned as they turned towards their new targets, ambling in their direction. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would have to do.

“They’re – they’re moving away!” the driver said, some colour returning to his face.

“Not for long, I’m afraid.” Jaina could already feel the toll the nanochip was placing on her. The function was new and untested, and she was struggling to maintain the concentration needed for the illusions' integrity. “Are you hurt?”

“So far so good, I guess.”

One final blast, and Jaina had cleared a final path to the intersection. It was clear, for now. It wouldn’t be long before the shamblers were swarming from all sides. Even with her illusions shuffling between the swarm there was only so much she could accomplish, especially since every swipe or grab weakened the holographic images.

“Tell me you’re close enough,” Jaina spoke into her phone, pulling the driver behind her to face a new, encroaching swarm. “Any longer and we'll be torn apart. Literally.”

“Coming in now, Bluewater. Hold fast.”

With a roar that eclipsed all sound around her a massive dropship swooped around the buildings, thrusters on both sides of the hull firing as it came to a standstill midair.  Jaina had expected a helicopter or something of the like, but nothing like this, and for a brief moment surprise overcame her fear.  "New wings," came the pilot, “still getting used to them. Why don’t you two hook yourselves up?”

Two cables descended from the tail end, harnesses attached. “Strap up,” Jaina told the cab driver. “Quick as you can, unless you want to—”

Feedback slammed into her brain, garbled static overwhelming her vision and hearing and she fell to the ground, clawing at her ears and trying to block it out.  Pain surged through her head, and it was all she could do to not scream.  She remembered thinking that the illusions must have failed, and this must have been the result of poor calibration for projection failure, but right now there wasn’t much else she could think about.

Far way she could hear the moaning closing in.

And a voice. “Get up! You need to get up!”

She opened her eyes, vision still blurry. Shambling feet were just a few metres away. Arms pulled her to her feet, and strapped her into a harness. The driver secured the straps and yelled into the phone that she'd dropped onto the tarmac: “Go! We're secure! Let’s go!”

A whine, and the cables pulled taut, lifting Jaina and her companion off the ground and just barely out of reach of the clawing, moaning masses below. The rush of air seemed to reinvigorate Jaina, and as they were pulled up to the deployed ramp she planted her feet, working to detach her harness and the driver's. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Think you saved me more than enough times today.”

As soon as she was secure she pulled out her phone, dialling Melinda's number. She needed to warn her. Maybe there was still time. Maybe the swarms hadn’t reached the nightclub just yet. Maybe if she called fast enough, Melinda could get out of there.

But each ring of the busy tone ebbed her hope away. There was nothing Jaina could do.

And that hurt the most.

As the dropship pulled away Jaina turned back to the open ramp. Theramore was burning. Shadowy hordes closed in on whatever light sources remained, fainting screaming carried upon the wind to reach her ears. She thought of the people that didn’t make it. Of Melinda, who she'd left behind without a word because duty called for it. Of Sylvanas, who she’d been powerless to save.

She could cry about it later. She would cry about it later. But right now, there was the Nest.

And hopefully, some answers too.


	2. The Nest

She felt the dropship lurch as Big Sky pulled the aircraft into a sharp turn and began its descent.  She was one of the privileged few to actually oversee the design of some aspects of XCOM's base; she knew the dropship's entrance funnel was designed with this landing maneuver in mind.

So they were here.

XCOM HQ.  The Nest. 

She noted that the dropship didn’t come with windows, which was probably both a design quirk and a security precaution; few had the clearance to know the exact location of the Best, at least on paper.  There were probably enough people who were smart enough to use other methods to find it out.  Not that Jaina wasn’t one of them.  She just wasn’t interested.

And how could she be?  After everything that had happened?

Jaina did note that she was surprisingly unharmed after the encounter, save for her blouse’s somewhat shredded fabric and some scratch marks on her pants.  Physically unharmed, she decided.  Mentally?  That was an issue to discuss later.

How many people could say the same?  Her parents were still in Kul Tiras HQ, based in Stormwind, and she’d lost her phone in back in Theramore.  She had no way of knowing if they were okay.  If Stormwind was secure. 

And what of everywhere else?  Was anywhere still safe?  Was all that was left of humanity located in this secret underground bunker?

The dropship's descent was cut short with a whirr as its landing gear deployed alongside the ramp, where Jaina got her first look at the interior of XCOM HQ.  It was mostly rock, as expected from an underground base, but functionally supported with struts, lighting and wiring adorning almost every surface visible.  Klaxons blared to signify the dropship's arrival and technician crews jogged to their stations for their duties, pushing carts and carrying toolboxes.  The metal flooring was painted with designations and directions for bay crews, and she could see some areas were still under renovation or construction.

At least, that was for the landing bay.  Jaina could see more circular vault doors built into the walls, undoubtedly leading to the rest of the base.  She recognized the door design because it was her own, meticulously engineered to isolate and deter potential Intruders, should the need arise.  When she came up with the design it was for a personal project, a hypothetical prototype, one that she decided was unmarketable to the world’s militaries that found themselves constrained by taxpayer favour and budget restrictions.  The XCOM project had had no such limitations, and so the design was approved. 

She wondered how many of the other operatives had made it.

“What is this place?” the driver asked as he walked down the ramp.  “I’ve . . . I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That’s kind of the idea.”  Jaina walked onto the landing pad, surveying her surroundings.  She’d need to link up with the highest authority currently on base, help the man find a safe haven that wasn’t a highly classified base, and then get some answers.  “There should be someone here to help you out—”

Guns clicked.  Footsteps to her right.  “Hands in the air and stay where you are.  Do us all a favour and comply with the next few instructions.”

Her eyes narrowed as she turned.  “What’s going on?”

The line of five soldiers that now stood before her cocked their weapons simultaneously.  The foremost of them wore strange, circular armor, with an equally peculiar helmet, one that left only slits to look out of.  And was the one addressing them.  “I said, _hands in the air, and don’t move!”_

“They sound like they mean business,” the driver said.  “Better comply.”

“This is ridiculous,” Jaina protested, but raising her hands regardless.  “You think I’m a security breach?  How the hell would I get picked up if I wasn’t approved—’

“I’m afraid this concerns a little more than mere security clearance,” another voice cut in.  To her left Jaina could see an elven woman in medical attire approach them.  “Bluewater, I assume.  Big Sky radioed in prior to landing.”

Jaina cocked her head.  “If you know I’m an operative, why the firing squad?”

“Heightened security protocols just kicked in, so we’re following Commander Wyrnn’s directive.”  The woman stopped just before Jaina and looked her up and down.  “Signs of struggle, wounds match basic descriptions . . .” A few taps of her datapad and she turned back to Jaina.  “If you will, my associates and I will escort you and the civilian to the examination rooms.”

“I’m right here, you know,” came the protest.

“I never said anything that wasn’t true,” the woman retorted.  “Come along now.”

Jaina could feel the helmeted soldier’s gaze on her as she followed suit. 

She took the time to take in everything around her.  The air was cold, biting, but clean and unencumbering, conducive for work.  Whoever had designed the ventilation clearly knew their stuff, as did whoever designed everything else.  From the layout of the corridors to the installed infrastructure, all seemed to be planned out in a unique way, but combined together seamlessly.  This was the fruit of the joint project, it seemed.  It pleased her, in spite of the circumstances.

It was also good to simply observe as much as she could.  After all, if she understood the situation correctly then she was going to be holing up here for an extended period of time.  May as well get used to it.

_Along with unorthodox and strict security protocols,_ she mused. 

Jaina noticed the security detail split in two; the doctor, armoured figure and one female soldier pulled Jaina to the right, whilst the remaining male security troopers linked up with a male doctor, and escorted the cab driver to the left, who gave Jaina one last fleeting look before he disappeared around the corner. 

“This is our examination room,” the doctor said, as Jaina walked past a sign that clearly stated _Decontamination Chamber_ **.**   “Please strip down your clothing and put them in the chute to the side.  The sooner we finish your physical examination, the sooner we can move to the other tests.”

“Other tests?” Jaina was incredulous at this point.  “First you want to strip search me, then—”

“I assure you, Miss Proudmoore,” the doctor began, her eyes reassuring but her voice taking on a definite steely edge, “these procedures are not just for base security, they are also for your _safety._   It would be easier for all of us if you would cooperate.”

There was something in her tone that indicated there were things this doctor wasn’t letting on just yet.  A multitude of reasons came to Jaina’s mind but none seemed to make sense.  Then she heard the soldier behind her shift the rifle in their hands, and moved to comply.

The surgical nature of the room – single-coloured, brightly lit, tiled room – helped to alleviate the humiliation Jaina might have felt doing the same thing in another context.  With her clothes removed and stashed in the chute Jaina stood upright as the doctor pulled out a scanner and began to sweep her body.  “Spread your legs please.”

Jaina glared at the doctor, who simply shrugged.  “Standard procedure, Miss Proudmoore.  I’m afraid this examination requires me to be thorough.”

The human rolled her eyes as she complied.  To her credit, the doctor kept it professional, merely sweeping her nether regions with the scanner and refrained from invasive methods.  With a final scan the doctor shut off the device.  “Right.  Now we need to get you to the proper decon showers, and then do some blood tests and medical questioning.”

Jaina could already feel her body aching.  “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m afraid not, Miss Proudmoore.”

“That’s going to take forever.”

“With that attitude?  Quite likely.”

* * *

By the time Jaina had been washed, tested and redressed in base fatigues the clock told her it was 0835 in the morning; the last she checked the dropship’s clock, it had been 0320 hours, and that was during the descent into the base.  To say that she was cranky would have been a gross understatement.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” her doctor said as soon as Jaina was decent and exited the final chamber into a windowed corridor, itself overlooking the landing bay.  “I’m Doctor Tyrande Whisperwind.  Chief scientist and medical officer, formerly of Teldrassian Medical Core.”

She might have had a lot of things washed out of her today but at least her own manners were still intact.  “Jaina Proudmoore, Kul Tiras Inc.  Though I’m sure you’d have known that by now.”  They shook hands.  “I take it I’m finally sterile enough for physical contact?”

“Very funny.  And yes, we did read your file when we received word of a new arrival.”  Tyrande brushed aside the jab and gestured to the helmeted soldier that had also emerged from the quarantine chamber.  “This is acting head of base security, Maiev Shadowsong, from Teldrassian Security Core.  You will forgive our, shall we say, forceful induction and introductory screenings.”

“I make no apologies.”  The voice emanating from behind the helmet was steeled.  “Not with how events have turned out thus far.”

Jaina narrowed her eyes, unsure if she was ever going to like Maiev, or feel relatively secure around her.  An ironic sentiment, to be sure.

“How bad?” she asked, trying to avoid a confrontational tone, but still wanting to get some answers out from them.  “I was just evac’ed out of Theramore, so I didn’t have a chance to find out how everywhere else is faring.”  She left out the part about Theramore being overrun, less to do with how she was sure the duo already knew what had happened to her city.

More so because she didn’t want to relive that experience in her head all over again.

“Azeroth as a whole is . . . faring poorly.”  Maiev had chosen her words carefully, anbd turning to look out the window did not hide it.  She gazed at the dropship undergoing post-flight maintenance as she continued, “The two of us were activated around the same time our scouts came back to us with incursion reports.  By the time we arranged for transport here, the kaldorei were already under siege.”

“As far as we were made aware, Stormwind is besieged but holding strong, as is Orgrimmar,” Tyrande added.  Jaina noted the way Tyrande ran her hands over each other as she spoke.  A nervous tick, perhaps.  Tyrande did not look the type to worry often; this was disconcerting, to say the least.  “Teldrassil will hold.  Others . . . others were not so lucky.”

Jaina wanted to be relieved that Stormwind was safe, but she couldn’t.  Not when everywhere else was not.  Even Maiev, stone cold as she first appeared to Jaina, didn’t seem too comfortable.

Tyrande brushed a stray hair aside and looked back at Jaina, the smile on her face appearing a little too forced.  “Anyways.  I’m sure you’re tired.  We need to get you rested and then set up in our labs—"

Two loud voices echoed down the hallway, bickering and retorting, dialogue mixed with angry footsteps, cutting off Jaina’s sentence.  “What do you mean, ‘captured’?”

“I’ve told you everything I know; the report came in from a side report during the mass recall.”

“And you didn’t bother finding out more?”

An elf woman and human male came into view, the former dressed in combat fatigues similar to Jaina’s, the latter in full dress uniform, a twin-pronged ceremonial sword hanging from his side.  She’d only met Commander Varian Wyrnn once, but she didn’t need a second glance to recognise him again.  “Vereesa, the only information I have came from the report that—”

His gaze fell on Jaina.  “Miss Proudmoore.  I see you’ve made it, unscathed.”

“For all intents and purposes, yes,” Jaina replied, “though just barely.”

“Cleared her through de-con protocols per your directive,” Tyrande offered.  “She’s cleared.  As for—”

The commander held up a hand.  “Miss Proudmoore, you were the one that reported Sylvanas Windrunner as captured, was it not?”

The elven woman snapped her head around at the sound.  “Please.”  She reached down and took Jaina’s hands into her own, looking as if she’d drop to her knees at any second.  “You were there.  You have to know something.  Anything!”

“I . . . I . . .” Jaina’s gaze flicked to Varian, who gave her a nod.  “I . . . couldn’t save her.”

“You what?”

“Something – no, someone – captured her.”  Jaina shuddered at the memory.  “Monstrous in size.  Armoured.  With skulls and runes carved into the pieces.”

“That is . . . unorthodox,” Maiev commented.  “Some would even call it out of fashion.”

The commander narrowed his eyes.  “You say this was a humanoid?” 

“For sure.”

“Then we need to find them.”  The elf – Vereesa – dropped Jaina’s hands and strode away.  “ _I_ need to find them.”

“You can’t just go out there like that, Vereesa,” Varian said.  “We’re in the middle of an—”

“Invasion, I know.”  Vereesa spun around to face them.  “That’s exactly why I’m going.”

“And where would you begin?” Jaina watched Varian take a step forward towards the elf.  “Step out into the sands of Durotan and keep walking?  Commandeer one of our fighters and try to land in the infested open spaces when you feel like it?  How would you even—”

“I can’t just leave her!” Vereesa yelled back.  “She’s my sister, dammit!  You can’t expect me to leave her to whatever – whoever – has got her!”

Silence hung over the corridor.  _Her sister?_   Jaina noted Sylvanas hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with her background when they had first met.  But that her _sister_ was also an embedded XCOM operative?  Who exactly was Sylvanas Windrunner? 

“I know you’re worried,” Varian continued.  “But I can’t lose another soldier.  Not just because this project needs you, or that Silvermoon’s duties also bind you.  I won’t let someone go out there without a plan.  Without help.  Without an idea of where to start.  I _promise_ you; when we get something on Sylvanas we’re going after her at once.  You have my word.”

Vereesa remained silent, but Jaina saw the anger recede from her eyes.  Fist clenched and jaw set, she turned away and headed out.

“This just complicated the existing situation.”  Varian ran a calloused hand over his similarly set features.  “What’s the situaion in Theramore, Jaina?  I’m getting no intel out from that region.”

“Overrun.”  Jaina averted her eyes.  “Those things . . .  they were everywhere.”

“That would explain it.”  Varian rested his hand on the hilt of the sword at his belt.  “You need rest, Miss Proudmoore.  You can file a full report later.  And bring Project DOTS to Dr Whisperwind when you’re feeling up to it.”

“I should check on the man I brought in with me,” Jaina said.  “Is he okay?”

Varian shared a glance with Tyrande.  “I was hoping you forgot about that.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “What’s going on?  What happened?”

“It’s not right to hide it from her,” Maiev noted.  “She deserves to know.  All of us would, in her position.”

Tyrande sighed.  “Come.  There’s no easy way to say this.”

* * *

“When we first got reports on this, they came from Dalaran.  I’m sure you’re familiar with Antonidas?”

“He taught me everything I know.” Jaina hadn’t known her mentor was an operative too.  Apparently everyone had secrets.

“He chose to stay to manage the situation.”  Tyrande leaned over the holotable and accessed her files, pulling up reports and folders as she spoke.  “But not before relaying us critical information.  Information that serves as the basis for our counter-invasion strategy.  Foremost of which is the source of this . . . infection.”

“Clarify.”

“Well for one, Antonidas had procured a few live specimens prior to the outbreak that engulfed Dalaran.  And no, don’t worry, your mentor wasn’t the one that started it.”  Tyrande paused.  “At least, I just heard from him four hours ago, and he said his own specimens were secure.”

Jaina huffed.  “That’s reassuring.”

The doctor shrugged, turning back to her work.  “Regardless, the list he sent me were characteristics common amongst all specimens.  Faded, rotting bodies.  Shambling, slow movement.  Loud moaning.  But most intriguing of all,” Tyrande said as she pulled up a series of photos and splayed them out with a flick of her wrist, “bite marks.  Humanoid bite marks.  On each and every victim.”

“He thinks there’s a connection.”

“No, Jaina.  We know there’s a connection.”

Tyrande pulled up a video file onto the holoprojection.  “Exhibit Bravo Three, one of Antonidas' first specimens, except that this one came to him wounded.  Antonidas found the man bleeding on his laboratory doorstep and took him in.  And when he noticed the bite wound, Khadgar placed him in an isolation chamber.”

Jaina raised an eyebrow.  “That’s cold.  I’ve never known him to be . . . practical beyond compassion.”

“I assume by then he’d seen enough to have his own suspicions.”  More images and video clips, each highlighting the subsequent physical examination, a catalogue of every wound and abnormality.  Jaina noted a surprising lack of blood from injuries, which was unusual.  And worrying.  “The result of this is a comprehensive record of this man transforming into the shambling form that you are familiar with.  He came in with bite wounds, and ended up like . . . this.”

Tyrande sped up the clip's playback speed, showing Jaina the conversion process as the subject slowly turned sicker and sicker.  She watched his motor functions fail and mental state deteriorate.  She watched a blight spread across his skin.  She watched him gasp for air as the slow onset of pain reached a peak at a point where he was too weak to cry for help, before falling limp upon the ground.

Then, from its rotted gums and hollowed throat came the moan that she was all too familiar with by now, and the fallen corpse pushed itself to its feet.  Each and every grey muscle moved against nature’s will itself, an abomination ready to be set forth upon an unprepared world as it pushed itself into a standing position, taking a tentative step forward.  Then another.  And another.  Moaning as it grappled toward an unseen presence, presumably Antonidas himself.

“Damn.”

“Can’t think of many worse ways to go,” Tyrande said, closing the files. 

Jaina watched her drum her fingers on the desk, exhaling sharply.  “I’ve been doing this for a long time,” the doctor continued.  “I’ve seen a lot of things.  Injuries and ailments I would never wish to see again.  But this – _this_ – this is like nothing I’ve prepared for.”

“You and me both.”  Jaina brushed aside a stray hair.  “You said . . . you said something happened to the man who came in with me?”

“Med team found a bite on him.”

Her heart stilled.  “. . . how bad is it now?”

* * *

When she saw him, he was already too far gone to be saved.

Maiev's security team had him secured him inside an isolation chamber for quarantine, but the transparent glass walls let Jaina know it was meant for study, too.  She saw every gruesome detail.  How his skin deteriorated into an unnatural rot.  How he lay slumped against a corner, chest heaving, mouth gasping for air that his body couldn’t seem to absorb. 

“There’s nothing we can do?  Not a thing?”

“Not that we know yet.”  The doctor folded her arms.  “Antonidas and I have been forwarding correspondence on the issue, but no definitive progress has been made.  We were hoping you’d be able to bring a fresh perspective to all this.”

Jaina wouldn’t realise her hands were balled into fists, or how her eyes reddened at the sight, not at least until Tyrande would tell her at a later time.  All she knew now was agony and guilt, rage and self-loathing.  Anger at herself for not being able to protect anyone.  Not Melinda.  Not Sylvanas.  Not anyone in Theramore, and not even the cab driver that’d been dragged into this mad by sheer bad luck. 

_Not you.  Not you too._

She sank to her knees, hands planted upon the surface of the glass.  What was the point of being an XCOM operative if she couldn’t save anyone?  Wasn’t that the whole point of her being here?  She didn’t deserve to be here, didn’t deserve to be alive—

She caught herself on that train of thought.  Jaina brushed away tears with the back of her hand, sucked in a breath, and pushed herself to her feet.  The sob she almost let out died inside her throat, forced back down by sheer will. 

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll . . .  yeah.  It’s just . . .” she risked another glance at the shamblers’ latest victim, trying to hold back a sob.  “I couldn’t save him.”

Tyrande was silent for a brief moment.  When she did speak, it was with the same look Jaina had found on her when they had first met.  “We watched the first gate fall from the transport when we left,” she said.  “They were pouring over the walls and charging the guards, going for where civilians were clustered in.  I don’t know if they made it.  I . . . I haven’t had the courage to ask about Teldrassil ever since.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Tyrande sniffed.  “I don’t know what it is that we’re facing.  And I don’t know if we’re ever going to survive it.”

Neither did Jaina.

* * *

Wherever she was, she couldn’t tell.   It was all a sickly grey blur. 

She was . . . moving.  Running.  Shooting.  Hands in a blur, amidst flashes of fire and some other kind of shifting shadow.  Her victims fell left and right, her path unobstructed and unopposed. 

She squinted, trying to get a better view of what was going on.  Was she in control?  She couldn’t have been.  She felt like she was moving but she wasn’t.  She could feel her finger tighten on the trigger every time, and the gunshots sounded like they were a mile away.  She felt the shadow course over her skin, but wasn’t sure how.  That wasn’t her.  It couldn’t be her.

The faces of her victims kept shifting.  She needed to get a grip.  Were they the enemies she was supposed to fell?  In one instance they were.  In another, they were faces she knew.  People she loved. 

And there was something else.  A voice.  A cold presence.  An evil shadow. 

“ _Rise, Sylvanas Windrunner._ ”


End file.
